


Take Me Out Of This Place I'm In (I Think I'm Dying Here)

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drabble, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ficlet, Fluff and Angst, Human Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, Prompt Fic, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-18
Updated: 2014-03-18
Packaged: 2018-01-16 05:30:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1333855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s nothing worse than watching someone you love fall apart right before your eyes, and Dean will do anything he can to help Castiel learn to ground himself - even if it means chick-flick moments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Me Out Of This Place I'm In (I Think I'm Dying Here)

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by Daughter's "Human"

**-Dean-**  
Sometimes Cas forgets simple stuff.  
He gets into wrestling matches with the coffee machine even after Dean's told him a hundred times that the filter goes in before the grounds; he doesn't rinse the toothpaste out of the sink after he brushes his teeth. It's little stuff, and it's not a big deal and Dean kinda finds it endearing (not that he's gonna tell Cas that - Sam would never let him hear the end of it). Roommates do quirky shit, and Cas has been through enough literal hellfire to warrant a few un-replenished toilet paper rolls.  
  
So yeah, Dean doesn't worry too much that a celestial being older than dirt doesn't always put the cap back on the orange juice. Hell, it's nothing Sam wouldn't do on a daily basis anyway.  
  
It does worry him, though, when Cas forgets something that something triggers a total body shutdown.  
  
Like sometimes, instead of eating or sleeping or going to the bathroom, Cas will perch on a chair or crouch down on the floor and go cross-eyed looking at the wall in front of him like that one command his humanity issued him had jammed up the cogs in his head and his body just gave up on trying to get him to knock it loose.  
  
That's how Dean finds him usually - wound down mid-action in the middle of the bunker kitchen at 3 a.m and cradling his hands against his chest like they're broken. It's not only worrying to see Cas blank like this, it's downright alarming and Dean's never sure whether to reach out or back away before he accidentally breaks the guy.  
  
Dean still remembers that time when he called Cas a "baby in a trenchcoat" and wonders just how close to home that had hit.  
  
\---  
  
It's the third time since breakfast. When did he start keeping count?  
  
Dean's headed to the library, beer in hand, half distracted by a possible kushtaka sighting in Florida and half preoccupied with whether Sam had eaten the last of the bread he'd bought from the corner market on Sunday. It was damn good rye, and Dean's about 80% sure he would kill for a sandwich. Research takes precedence right now though, because Sam's getting bitchy and doing that foxtrot tapping thing with his knee that means he's in his Nerd zone and teetering on the edge of Raving Lecture mode if Dean doesn't get him that one book - so his abdominal black hole will have to wait.  
  
Dean throws an apologetic glance behind him towards the kitchen as he tramps down the stairs, muttering expletives into his beer the whole way. One chapter Sam needs. _One_ chapter that is only in _one_ book that is hammered into _one_ of the seemingly limitless walls of books. This is all Sam's territory, and aside from days when he's so engrossed he can't even be bothered to move his ass downstairs (like today), he practically camps out in the library.  
  
That's where Dean finds the ex-angel, sitting at one of the desks with that creepy thousand-yard stare again. Actually, the term doesn't even fit, not for Cas. The guy's consciousness is way past measurability; he's not even on the same fucking planet right now.  
  
Dean swallows audibly and backtracks until he's flat up against the wall. Of course Cas doesn't hear him. It takes a lot to get past Cas' personal cone of isolation these days, and Dean's still unsure of whether or not it's his place to try to interpose himself between his friend and whatever alternate world he seems to want to wrap himself in all the damn time.  
  
Dean doesn't blame Cas for wanting to phase out, though, he really doesn't. Sometimes…  
Sometimes all the oxygen in the world isn't enough to be able to breathe.  
  
Dean absentmindedly circles his thumb over the lip of his beer bottle and watches Cas not blink for a good minute and a half before sighing to himself and rolling his back off the wall to head back towards the kitchen.  
  
\---  
  
Cas practically tips over backwards in his chair when Dean slams a mug of coffee and a turnkey sandwich down in front of him. Granted, it's not the most gentle way to be knocked out of a mental power outage but what the fuck is Dean supposed to do, kiss the dude back to life?  
"Eat, drink, now." Dean points at the sandwich and raises his eyebrow at Cas not unlike a disgruntled mother fussing over her sick child.  
"Dean." Is all Cas declares as he focuses his arctic blues straight into Dean's and seriously, how did Dean get stuck with so many overgrown puppies because what the fuck. Sam was hardwired at birth to get whatever his earnest heart desired by implementing the Stare, and apparently Cas possesses the same secret weapon by nature. It's just not human how dangerous his bunkmates' candid gazes are.  
"Seriously, dude," Dean purses his lips and hopes that Cas doesn't keep looking at him like that. "I don't know what kind of party you're having over in Candyland but it's freaking me out."  
Cas furrows his brow and looks down at the coffee, then back up at Dean. Totally an anthropomorphic puppy.  
Dean sighs heavily and caves, pulling out the chair opposite Cas. He plunks himself down and steeples his hands to level Cas with a stare that he hopes comes across as caring and not just gassy.  
"You're human, Cas," he tries. "You…"  
Oh man. This is so not at all his territory. Sam's the only one he's ever comfortable having chick-flick moments with; Cas is just too… vulnerable. Eager to accept whatever Dean or Sam is offering, whether it's solace or slander. He takes it all like a starving man in a buffet and Dean wishes he didn't know why.  
"You gotta stay grounded. Okay?" Dean finishes unhelpfully. Telling an older-than-sin celestial being to stay "grounded". Nice one. Cas doesn't roll his eyes or sass back though, just tilts his head and frowns slightly.  
"What do you mean?" he queries.  
"You gotta stay here with us," Dean keeps his hands busy picking at the label on his beer and avoids looking at the hollow of Cas's collarbone peeking out of his oversized t-shirt. "Can't have you ghosting out on me, man."  
He's expecting Cas to roll his eyes skyward and tell him not to worry like he usually does, but that's not what happens - he just looks like he's about to cry but doesn't know that he's capable of the emotion just yet.  
"How?" the question shocks Dean enough to look back up and get snagged on Cas's fucking galaxy eyes. Goddammit.  
Dean doesn't know what to tell him - that he's lucky for being emotionally stunted (seriously, it takes Dean _at least_ a pint of whiskey to feel as numb as Cas looks), or that he's scaring the hell out of Dean, or that he's unfairly tempting in the way he keeps worrying over his lower lip with his teeth?  
In the end Dean swallows down all of these and silently pushes the coffee mug into Cas's hands. "Trust me," he says, "You'll feel better."  
Cas considers the steam rising from the mug and takes a few bird-like sips, watching Dean the entire time. Dean stares right back, forcing a blasé expression that he is in no way feeling right now. Not with the fragile way Cas is gripping his mug, delicate in a way that doesn't seem possible for such broad and calloused hands but is because it's Cas and he's always worn Jimmy's body in a way that is distinctively gentle. Like a baby bird, but with the respect of a king. It's a fucking enticing combination to think about, what it must feel like to be touched by a paradox. Dean can't keep himself from wanting to trade places with the damn cup.  
"Dean?"  
"Hm." Dean derails his train of thought and resumes inspection of his beer, long since empty and warmed from his death grip.  
"How do you not tire of human emotion?"  
"Huh?" Dean squints at the place just between Castiel's eyes - something Dad had taught him, when you wanted to avoid eye contact without being rude. Distractions, he had said, are always a death sentence. If looks could kill…  
"You feel things with such severity, in such rapid succession, how do you not lose yourself in all the noise?" Cas dips his head back down to inspect his mug and Dean tries to think of Sam, what would Sam say, dammit he's the queen of touchy-feely heart-to-hearts he would know how to fix this.  
"I mean, I dunno man you… wait, don't angels have that Heaven FM radio chatter thing?" Dean points out. "That sounds pretty damn noisy."  
"It's different," Cas breathes out with a sigh. "Angels are not slave to fleeting emotion, we are never overcome by it the way humans often are." He looks back up then, catches Dean right in the eye with another sad puppy face. "We are never lost, because we have our brothers and sisters to guide us. Now, there's only silence. It's…" Cas pauses, squints his eyes shut. "It's deafening."  
  
It shouldn't make sense, but it does. And it shouldn't seem like a good idea to reach out across the table and encompass Castiel's calloused hand with his own, but Dean does and it is.  
"Hey, hey. It's gonna be alright, you hear?" Dean gives Cas's hand an extra squeeze to emphasize. His brain is screaming at him to pull away, pull away before you fuck shit up even more than it already is, but he can't move his hand for the life of him. "You're not alone, not if you don't wanna be. You just gotta find something to dig roots into. That's why you got us." Dean's hand is buzzing but he still can't seem to make it release Cas, so he keeps talking and tries to forget that he's engaging in what he refuses to call hand holding. "Believe me you, once you get Sam on a roll with his smarty stuff he'll give you background noise till your ears ring." Dean finally decides not to let himself breathe until he takes his hand away from Cas (despite all the scars and scrapes his hands are baby-soft, what the ever-loving _fuck_ ), and when he does he makes a fist and shoves both hands between his legs so he doesn't make any more stupid moves. "Just stay with us and we won't let you float off." Dean finishes with a shaky breath. Stupid Cas and his stupid galaxy eyes and his stupid affection towards Dean. Why'd he have to be such an open invitation?  
And why does Dean have to keep forcing himself to turn it down?  
Why does it have to be a bad idea to love something that loves you back?  
"It's not your job to take care of me, Dean, I am perfectly capable -" Cas doesn't get to finish his sentence because at that moment Dean finds his answer, grabs Cas's collar and hauls him halfway over the table where he meets Cas's mouth with his own in a harsh kiss. Dean's done being a coward, and this is a terrible idea but he's fucking done and if he dies tomorrow or next week or next year, he wants to at least know the taste of the angel-turned-human who rescued him from Perdition and from himself.  
So Dean works his tongue right into Cas's mouth and steals away whatever excuse Cas has for never joining in what is apparently a perpetual ongoing chick-flick moment that is Team Free Will. If Dean has to be touchy-feely, he's damn well going to go all the way with it and he's damn well going to take Cas with him. So he kisses Castiel for all he's worth, and it's not gentle and it's not graceful but Cas pushes into it like he's starving for it and somehow Dean's hand supporting his weight over the table gets intertwined with Cas's again and this time he doesn't pull away. It's the best damn bad decision he's ever made.  
  
 **-Cas** -  
Dean tells Castiel to find something to dig roots into, and so Castiel finds the forests of green in Dean's eyes between kisses and tries to plant trees there. It works better than anything, and for the first time in a long while Dean lets him. Mirrors his want, nakedly and hungrily. Stares right into Castiel's eyes and doesn't back down, lets him entangle himself in them and dig roots in deep where he forgot he wanted to be all along.  
  
Galaxies were never this beautiful.  
  
/end.  
\---  
  


**Author's Note:**

> this was my first entry for promptsforspn.tumblr.com: prompt - Destiel // Castiel is having troubles adjusting to some aspects of being human. He will ask for Dean's help.


End file.
